


Sauce for the Goose

by Catspaw



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-22
Updated: 2011-05-22
Packaged: 2017-10-19 17:05:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catspaw/pseuds/Catspaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Revenge is a dish best eaten cold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sauce for the Goose

"No! Absolutely not! There is absolutely no way in _hell_ that I'm going to wear – and I use the term 'wear' _very_ loosely - these...these... _miserable_ excuses for garments."

Daniel was as furious as the rest of SG1 had ever seen him, red in the face, his eyes a bright, blazing blue, swishing the offending articles from one flailing hand.

Sam looked in mute appeal at her CO, who just shrugged. Then, when Sam lowered her brows and jerked her head insistently in Daniel's  
direction, heaved a heavy sigh and took a step forward, raising his hands in a placatory gesture.

"Daniel--"

Daniel whirled round, balled up the offending garments and flung them into a corner of the room with a vicious intensity that surprised them all and forced Jack to step back two paces again. Daniel planted his feet firmly, crossed his arms and swept a comprehensive glare over his teammates, alighting finally on Jack.

"No, Jack. N. O. Watch my lips. No. Not now, not ever, never. And that's positively my last word."

"But Daniel--"

"What part of the word 'no' do you not understand?"

"Daniel, will you listen to me? We were sent here specifically to make nice with these people and get a treaty going so that we can mine the naquada. We are this close to actually pulling it off this time and incidentally doing them a bit of good into the bargain – you said yourself that it's disgraceful that some of the diseases that are endemic here are still in existence, let alone killing them like flies periodically. For once we are in a situation where nobody loses, and all it's going to cost us to seal the deal is to turn up at this feast tonight wearing the native costume and have a sociable time. How bad can that be? Then tomorrow, we're off through the 'gate again and it's some other team's problem."

"No."

"And you further said yourself that you wanted to find out exactly how this society was organised and the exact implications of its being a matriarchy."

"And one of those implications is lying over there in the corner," Daniel said bitterly. "Nowhere in my contract does it state that I'm  
expected to turn up at social events on or off world dressed like a third-rate stripper. And I'm not going to."

"You are incorrect, Daniel Jackson. You would not be dressed at all like a stripper, as I understand the term. A stripper usually wears more clothing than that to heighten the erotic effects of removing it."

Jack glared at Teal'c – that really hadn't been a helpful comment to make.

"Okay, if you're going to split hairs – a pole dancer then. Either way, the answer is still 'no'. I'm not doing it."

Jack telegraphed a message to Sam with his brows – 'C'mon, help me out here' – and she stepped back into the fray.

"Daniel, it really isn't that bad. The Colonel's right, it's a small price to pay, and it's only for a couple of hours. I've had to do it before – I haven't enjoyed it, but I've done it for the sake of the mission."

"That's all very well for you to say, your costume at least stays on the right side of decency. In fact, in comparison to what you're expecting me to wear, you'll be embarrassingly overdressed."

Sam's face was the picture of innocence.

"But Daniel, anthropologists do it all the time. They dress and live as the people they're studying."

Daniel gave her a withering look before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room. Jack waited until he was sure Daniel was a safe distance away before he allowed the belly laugh he'd been struggling to hold in to bubble up to the surface.

"Carter, you been saving that line all this time?"

Sam grinned as she crossed to the corner of the room and retrieved Daniel's rejected costume. "Yep. Knew it would come up sooner or later that the boot would be on the other foot: the law of averages said that it would have to, eventually."

Jack sobered himself up with difficulty. "Well, they do say revenge is a dish best eaten cold."

"Oh yeah. It sure is, Sir."

Something in her tone alerted his sixth sense, started a little frisson of warning at the base of his skull. He narrowed his eyes and looked suspiciously at her.

"Carter? Do I detect a tiny bit of agenda hidden in there somewhere?"

"Sir?"

"Carter, can the big blue eyes routine. C'mon, give. What aren't you telling me?"

"We-ell..."

Jack's brain suddenly joined the dots big time, and he felt a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He glanced at Teal'c: damn it, Teal'c was smirking, absolutely, positively, honest-to-God smirking. This was bad...

"There was a little something... you're going to have to wear it too. Something similar, anyway."

"What? Oh no, nonono, chain of command just doesn’t work like that."

"It does here, Sir. After all, they've got me pegged as the alpha of this group because I'm female. I have a certain amount of diplomatic cachet to keep up. You said yourself, this is important. And besides, anthropologists --"

"Yadda yadda," Jack interrupted. "I'm the CO of this unit. That makes me military. Mi-li-ta-ry. I am not an anthropologist."

Sam's grin was positively evil as she clapped her CO on the shoulder. "You are today." She thrust another small bundle into Jack's arms, turned and went out of the room, whistling softly, offering heartfelt thanks to the small gods of payback.


End file.
